


Glutton for Punishment

by claimthatbooty



Series: A Pilgrim's Confessions [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Gangsters, Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, M/M, Minor Character Death, Russian Mafia, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-04
Updated: 2017-02-04
Packaged: 2018-09-21 23:34:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9571853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/claimthatbooty/pseuds/claimthatbooty
Summary: Yuuri Katsuki, the secret leader of the largest mafia in Russia, had just ordered him to suck his cock in his office. What could he do to surprise Yuuri more than Yuuri’s ever surprised him?





	

**Author's Note:**

> AKA the Victuuri Mafia AU Blow job fic.
> 
> Credits to [Minatu](http://minatu.tumblr.com/) who came up with the [Mafia AU](http://minatu.tumblr.com/post/154756575492/au-where-everyone-thinks-victor-is-the-successor) and gave me permission to write a fic on it! Enjoy!

“Care to explain why you decided to sabotage a mission we've planned for months?”  

Sitting on an antique armchair, Yuuri Katsuki took off the blood-soaked gloves he was wearing and discarded them in the mesh bin under the lacquered wooden desk. A few black strands had fallen out of place from the Asian’s cleanly slicked-back hair, but they could not hide his icy gaze and the fury they barely contained. The office desk gave out a classical vibe, standing out in the modern interior. After all, it was the only piece of furniture that hadn’t been removed since the handover. With new boss came new changes, other than the office's interior design of course, and not everyone in the Nikiforov family could accept that. Some still believed in the old way of doing things, while some simply could not accept their former Pakhan stepping down. 

This was the reason Viktor Nikiforov assumed the role of leader publicly. Family business they called it, so it was only reasonable for Viktor to take after his father’s achievements. He didn't make the choice. In fact, he didn't get to make any choices; it was Yuuri’s idea. Reputation and status did not matter as long as the family stayed united and strong. On the day of the ceremony, it was the first and last time Viktor had ever disagreed with Yuuri’s decisions. 

“The brotherhood always comes first, Viktor.” Yuuri had said, with a cigarette in hand, no hesitation in his voice. White smoke clouded his vision, but Yuuri’s auburn eyes pierced him nevertheless, leaving him weak in the knees. He could still recall how it felt when Yuuri’s gaze burned into his eyes, with unmovable will and unshakable strength; and the exact moment he realized he could not live without this man.

“And she wasn’t even that pretty,” Yuuri added, loosening the blue tie with a single hand. Victor swore he's gonna burn that unfashionable necktie into ashes someday.

“Why, are you jealous?” 

Viktor replied with a grin, leaning on the desk that used to belong to his father, “aww, that’s so sweet.” 

From behind him a clicked sound was heard. Crackle, then a deep intake of breath. The smell of smoke filled the room. That's weird, Viktor thought. Yuuri's irritated and that's unusual. Killing never affected him. The man did not even blink when he first put a bullet through someone's head. Hell, he was only a boy back then. 

Shaking his head, as if that could shake away the pile of blood that burned red into his memory, Viktor turned swiftly with the grace of a ballerina, grasping Yuuri's hand to steal a taste. Thick warmth filled his lungs and the spice of cloves hidden beneath the bitter taste made him light-headed, tempting him to close his eyes and to just stop thinking, to leave everything for Yuuri to deal with. He grand the cigarette butt on the ashtray. Need to stay sharp.

"You could have died today, Viktor." Yuuri’s detached tone was as cold as the gust of wind blowing outside, in Saint Petersburg mid-January. 

“That woman had a pistol in her purse and daggers strapped to her thigh. She’s professional and aimed for your head, _Pakhan_.” Putting stress on the last word, Yuuri snorted. “Maybe if the first thing that came to your mind was “follow the plan”, it would not have come to this.” His voice cracked at the last few syllables, fissuring Yuuri’s mask of pretended calmness.

“She could have killed you.” He sounded as if he was squeezing the words out from the back of his throat.

“Well, she didn’t, did she? Though her determination deserved an award.” Viktor smiled, brushing Yuuri’s cheek with gentleness one would apply on delicate china. “It’s a shame she was a snitch. Her…assets were truly valuable to our cause.” 

What happened two hours ago had ignited Viktor’s darker desires and sent chills down his spine. He had never enjoyed the act of taking a life, but knowing the fact that Yuuri would never hesitate to kill for him was insanely satisfying. He would even call the feeling addictive. Of course, he knew the woman’s intention. He could recognize the eyes of a killer anywhere, just like the auburn ones he’s staring into now. The woman’s gaze was calculating yet empty, like she had no wishes other than to end the life before her. Viktor could see through her smile, her mask, her etiquette — he could see how she was rehearsing the murder of her target in her head again and again until she no longer felt any remorse. He admired her eyes. It reminded him of Yuuri Katsuki.

But Yuuri was different. His reactions were instantaneous, no rehearsal needed. Yuuri Katsuki killed on instinct. No thinking, no hesitating. 

The original plan was to get as much information possible from the spy after she had been secured, then dispose of whatever was left. But Viktor could not resist the temptation. How would Yuuri react if he gave him a little surprise? Before his “warriors” could immobilize the spy, Viktor whispered “изменник” in her ear when they greeted and hugged each other. He couldn’t decide which was funnier, the woman panicking and trying to get ahold of her pistol or the baffled, indignant look on Yuuri’s face. 

“Plan aborted. Eliminate the target at once.” Viktor first heard his fiancé’s voice tinted with exasperation next to him which echoed through the earpiece. One and a half second later, warm droplets spattered all over him as Yuuri thrust a knife into the side of the woman’s neck, slitting both arteries and the vocal chord. A silent and effective kill. Dropping both the body and blade onto the floor, Yuuri narrowed his eyes towards Viktor’s direction. Violently he grasped him by his tie and hissed, “Get into my room, I expect a reasonable explanation. Now.” before stomping away. 

It had been a long time since he last saw Yuuri showed his emotions blatantly like that. Viktor was proud of himself.

 

* * *

 

Though he had expected Yuuri to be furious, he had not foreseen what Yuuri concerned most was how “pretty” he thought the target was. Was it because of the admiration he failed to hide when he met her eyes? Did Yuuri know there was not a moment he did not occupy Viktor's mind? Maybe it would have made no difference. He was simply not allowed to avert his attention to others. What came out of Yuuri’s mouth next made him questioned his own ears. Yuuri Katsuki, the secret leader of the largest mafia in Russia, had just ordered him to suck his cock in his office. What could he do to surprise Yuuri more than Yuuri’s ever surprised him?

Still, he had sworn to God he would never disobey his Pakhan. Never. Not even when his orders were totally inappropriate and dangerous, which could risk them their status, even their lives if they were caught. Pakhan or not, Russians were not very forgiving when it came to homosexuality.

“Are you sure you want to do this, Yuuri? Surely we could pick a place with more privacy and…security.” Despite the protest, Viktor knelt obediently between Yuuri’s legs, unfastening his belt with nimble fingers. There were two things he was sure of: A, he was willing and eager to answer to the Pakhan’s wishes and B, he left the lock open when he entered Yuuri’s office. Who could blame him? He was in a rush. He’d leave that problem for the Pakhan to solve.

“This is not about want, Viktor. Accept your punishment.” It was hard for Viktor to see Yuuri’s expressions from this position, especially when Yuuri’s hand was pushing his face down towards his crotch. From this close, he finally realized Yuuri’s cock had already turned half-hard, pushing at the brief’s slightly wet fabric and awaiting stimulation…Wait, was that the newly promoted captain talking in the corridor? As much as Viktor wanted, he found it hard (heh, pun intended) to get into the mood when there were so many distractions.

“At least let me get cleaned up first. My suit still stinks of that whore’s blood—” 

“Vitya. Shut up.” Yuuri cut him off coldly, lazily down casting his lids to look down at him, staring directly into his eyes. “Now. I’m your Pakhan, remember?” Contrary to his collected and calm tone, Viktor could sense the greed hidden beneath his eyes, threatening to swallow him whole any moment now. He swore Yuuri was taking pleasure from his embarrassment and nervousness. Well, come to think of it, since the traditional punishments involved dissembling fingers one by one (something Yuuri introduced to the family), if giving his lover head could save his fingers from detaching his body, he would gladly do it. Again and again and again, which was also for his own interest.

“When you call my name like that, it always makes me feel like you're talking to a dog.” Half-complain and half-joke, Victor mumbled and slid Yuuri’s briefs off, biting softly on his thigh. 

“Maybe I am. Now be a good boy and suck, Vitya.” Yuuri whispered, his voice soft and gentle, as if having been laced with honey. But Viktor knew better than anyone else that it was only sugarcoating the bitter poison beneath it. He would never forget the tone of Pakhan giving orders. 

Wetting his lips, Viktor slowly took Yuuri into his mouth. This was not his first blowjob. The gagging taste and pressure of Yuuri’s heat were familiar, comforting even; wrapping the girth of Yuri’s cock with his lips, Viktor sucked hard at the tip while grazing his hand up and down the shaft. The taste of precum spread on his tongue, some flowing out from the corner of his mouth. Uncontrollably he gave out a hoarse, throaty groan with Yuuri still inside him, taking his cock deeper. The humming seemed to have pleased Yuuri further as his grasp on Viktor’s hair got tighter, letting out a moan that seemingly ended with his name. Yuuri’s voice went straight to his crotch, gaining heat that burned through his body. Viktor planned to utilize every part of himself to please Yuuri. He used to believe this was his only purpose. To pleasure him. Fulfill his needs. Answer to his desires. Then there should be no need for Yuuri to take over his father’s kingdom. It was his burden to bear.

Carried away in his thoughts, Viktor was taken by surprise when Yuuri suddenly rammed Viktor’s head down, invading his throat with his thickness. The action did not last long, but the lack of oxygen was enough to shake away the unsettling disquiet smothering his mind. 

“What the hell, Yuuri?” He hissed. “What the fuck was that?”

“Language, Vitya.” Yuuri answered coldly, his voice having dropped below freezing point. “You were not focusing. Distracted.” 

Viktor pursed his lips; he could not think of any excuses. Yuuri’s silence was deceiving, for one moment you’d think he simply had nothing to say and the next, he’d took you by surprise with the observant eyes beneath the rustic glasses he wore every day. 

“Hm, if you could notice that then I’m not doing my best,” Viktor replied with a smile, licking a wet stroke along Yuuri’s length. He knew Yuuri was close. His breath was ragged, his brows kneaded together and his golden ring clinked against the handle when he resumed his grip. “Let me make it up to you.” 

Still kneeling on the floor, Viktor started to unbuckle his belt in a frantic rush. He was starving for more. The hunger was gnawing at his body, tearing him apart from inside. Until now he had not realized how much he had wanted this, despite the fact that they did not store lube in the office and he did not carry it with him. Maybe it had to hurt a little this time. However, his hands were stopped by the touch of cold, tough leather. It was Yuuri’s shoe hindering him from further actions, and he looked up in confusion. 

“I want to come in your mouth, Vitya.” Yuuri murmured gently.

He had never imagined such a sadistic smile would appear on his lover’s face, and how fitting it would be. So fitting that he could almost ignore how Yuuri was in fact stepping on his painfully hard erection, the pressure nowhere near enough to turn into pleasure. “Also, no touching yourself.”

“…Да.” Viktor could do nothing but obey.

Right, this was punishment. He was not supposed to enjoy it _this_ much. Ignoring his half-unfastened pants, Viktor opened his mouth obediently and Yuuri thrust into him, letting out a deep sigh. The head was rubbing against the roof of his mouth, tightening his throat as nausea attacked him. It took all the willpower he could muster to not bite down and free himself from this…torment. Both Yuuri’s pre-cum and his saliva were making the sliding motion easier and smoother, but the gagging was not helping. Tears began to well up in his eyes, blurring his vision. This was too much. Yuuri, please, slow down, Yuuri—

“I'm close... Ah, Vitya,” Yuuri pulled his hair, tilting his head backward. Some of his cum spilled onto his cheek, but he did not have the time to care, too busy picking up what Yuuri had choked out in those intense moments.

Viktor was not entirely sure of his ears. A…I…what’s after the sh sound? He caught a few short syllables among the stuttered breaths, but before he could fully comprehend the exotic language, the taste of Yuuri’s seeds occupied his senses and swayed his ability to think. He could never get used to the bitter taste, Viktor thought as he swallowed every drop of Yuuri’s semen. The liquid clung to the back of his throat, and the repulsively sticky texture was almost enough to push him over the edge. Since when had his pants gotten so tight?

“Good boy.” Yuuri caressed his lips, prying them open with his thumb to check the insides of his mouth. Nodding approvingly, he leaned forward and whispered into Viktor’s ear, “you’ll have my reward tonight. But first fix your look. We have an appointment with a new customer in thirty minutes, _Pakhan_.”

Which translated to, you have thirty minutes to will down your boner, or else. Viktor sighed, watching Yuuri as he cleaned himself with tissue paper and tucked in his shirt, looking as composed as ever. He should go wash his face. Looking like this would not be good for the image of the Nikiforov Family, and by _this_ he meant half-naked with cum drying on his face and desperately wanting to get fucked. Wanting to get fucked by Yuuri, his heat thrusting into him without mercy, engraved into his soul were the gentle strokes of the calloused fingers of a killer, a lover—

Viktor had always been bad at following orders. 

Twenty minutes left.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Translation:  
> 1\. изменник: Traitor  
> 2\. A...I...: 愛しているよ (Viktor didn't understand because Yuuri rarely spoke Japanese)
> 
> This is my first ever fanfiction, please leave kudos and comment if you like my work! :)  
> I might expand this work into a series if I have more time (and energy and inspiration).
> 
> Check out my [blog](http://claimthatbooty.tumblr.com/) and [twitter account](https://twitter.com/LycoNUBAYO) if you want to see more updates!


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